21 Dreams
Six : The Harsh Glare Of Daylight
"Peter!"
She loves how easily it falls from her lips; how familiar those two syllables are. The memories of her calling out to him every single day have returned to her mind now and she pushes out the fact that her conscious self has no recollection at all of this new-found knowledge; no memories of Peter to tide her through her existence without him.
It hurts so much, knowing that she will only ever have Peter in the darkness, and Olivia has never wanted something as she does right now : for Peter to come back. She doesn't care how it works – Gene could be the key to the riddle and she wouldn't even laugh, because that is how much she wants Peter back.
"'Livia!"
He's here and she can feel her smile; a smile so genuine it'll never hurt. Besides, Olivia has never really be one to lap up attention and at least now it won't just be her name filling up the silence; she is determined to use his name as much as possible now that she remembers it and all of the precious moments it signifies.
The moon remains impossibly full as they lie down on their backs, limbs snaked together. She remembers him; God, she does. But it is only in the darkness that his name and their story comes to her and she really, really doesn't know what she'll do in the real world without him by her side. The coming dawn has never been such a terrifying prospect.
"I don't remember you." She isn't talking about it in a general sense, but he doesn't need an explanation to know how her mind works.
"I know." He murmurs quietly, working to keep his tone light; optimistic. "It's okay, 'Livia. You remember me now. I can't honestly say that I'm not disappointed, but this-" He casually waves a hand across their joined bodies to illustrate his point, "- is so much more than I thought I would ever get with you again."
The fact that these dreams mean so much to both of them only serves to highlight their miserable situation, but Olivia is still unclear of how it works and quite honestly, a little in awe at it all. "I can't believe I'm dreaming about you," She smiles.
"Hey, I can think of worse things…" He defends himself, a smirk growing on his face. She doesn't come up with a reply to his teasing banter; not here, not when their time together is limited and the impossibly round moon seems to grow darker, further, by the second. Time has never been so precious.
"Peter," She thinks she will never take that name for granted again. "Peter, we need to figure this out. You need to come back."
"I know, sweetheart. We'll try." He comforts her, but even she knows there's a reason he isn't promising her anything – because he can't make any assurances.
"I want you back, Peter." She does, and it means so much because there was a time that she didn't, a dark memory that hides in the joy of the others. She thinks of the words she had spoken to get him back a year ago. They don't apply anymore. He doesn't just belong with her. "We belong together."
"I know, 'Livia. We'll try." He says again, and it hurts that he can't promise her anything; can't promise her the lifetime they had talked about in such detail, in the dead of the night when they could release murmured dreams into the darkness and not see if they would float or sink.
"But not tonight."
If there's one thing Peter had regretted those first few days of not-existing, it had everything to do with Olivia. Not making her smile enough. Not making her laugh every day. Not taking her dancing.
So he does all three.
He pulls her up and they sway to the breeze in their bare feet, and she smiles at the absurdity of it all and laughs when he cracks jokes and Peter knows he'll never forget this, not even if he eventually moves on from this phase of non-existence and becomes nothing more than a name, long forgotton. He knows now that there has to be some sort of consciousness that remains after death because these words and night between him and Olivia are too perfect to not exist forever.
The tulips seem brighter than ever and Olivia's white dress takes on an almost-reflective quality, and for the first time in their story they can tell each other they're glimmering and it's not a bad thing. No one is scared anymore.
They wish the sun would never come up.
Olivia wakes with a start and a gasp and a strangled choke.
Another tulip rests in her hands but she's not bothered by it; puzzled, instead, by the empty darkness of the past six hours.
The daylight streams in and somehow highlights the ache in her heart as it provides a glaring contrast to the darkness and the field she misses so desperately, along with those entrancing blue eyes.
Olivia Dunham thinks she is the loneliest person in both worlds.
Dream six, and we've got another twelve hours (or less) to go. Yikes! Please, please, please, someone give me the strength and inspiration to finish this. Reviews, PMs, e-mails and tweets can be inspiring, by the way. Hits on my homepage act as a huge confidence booster.
E Salvatore,
October 2011.